


Treasure Hunt

by Miniatures



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, implied drunken shenanigans, magical thievery, swanfire shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miniatures/pseuds/Miniatures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hook goes on a quest to retrieve stolen property, and Emma and Neal embrace their mischievous sides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treasure Hunt

Hook glanced at the scrap of paper in his hand. It was stained brownish-yellow, and the edges had been artfully burned to a brittle black. Across it had been scrawled in blue ink— _In a paper palace, in a tome of hair, your path is marked with silk._

He sighed. Paper palace. The clues were becoming more obvious—and more tedious—as they day wore on. But if other such hunts were any indication, he was nearing the end of the trail. He stuffed the note in his jacket pocket and made his way to the Storybrooke Public Library. He would get back what had been taken from him. He always did.

Belle poked her head out from behind a bookshelf as he came in.

“Oh… hello, Hook,” she said. He felt a pang of guilt as he noted the wariness in her voice. She’d never fully warmed to him, and her mistrust was palpable whenever they were alone together. _I should really make a full apology one of these days. The last thing I need is the Dark One’s woman giving me the side-eye._

“Can I help you with something?” she asked, coming forward.

“Er, I’m looking for a book.”

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place then. Anything in particular?”

He pulled the note from his pocket. “A tome of… hair.”

Belle made a face. “Hair? Can I ask why?”

He scowled. “Someone has made the very grave mistake of stealing from a pirate, and I’m playing their little game,” he brandished the note, “because I’m just _that_ patient a man. That’s why.”

“Again?” she said, her mouth twitching into a smile.

“Aye,” he muttered.

“I think I know which book you need.”

She disappeared somewhere between the shelves, and returned moments later, book in hand. Its cover read _Hairstyles Through the 15 th-20th Centuries._ Belle handed it to him, smiling broadly now.

“If this doesn’t help, I think there might be a couple more like this in the Arts and Style section,” she indicated the shelves in question.

He thumbed through the book—almost immediately he found a page bookmarked with a red ribbon and another piece of lightly charred paper.

“No, this is exactly what I need,” he gave her a strained smile, took the paper, and handed her the book back. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Once outside the library, he unfolded and read the note.

_Coiled serpents guard your treasure against salty sea winds._

Hook pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was the simplest clue yet. _I suppose they ran out of ideas. Such children. I’ll regain my rightful property soon enough._

He reached the wharf fairly quickly. He startled a gaggle of fishermen as he stalked past them, and he allowed himself a little smile. His murderous thoughts must’ve been plain on his face. Good.

Hook tore through six docks’ worth of coiled ropes before he finally found what he was looking for. He was sweating, swearing, positively frothing with rage. But at long last, he uncovered a small wooden box sitting tight between the twisted loops. With a sigh of relief, he opened it and—

It was empty.

Growling, Hook sprang to his feet and whirled around.

“ALL RIGHT, SWAN!” he bellowed. “THIS HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH! GIVE IT BACK!”

He heard cackling, and Emma and Neal emerged from the fishing boat tethered to Hook’s dock. They stepped onto the wood, shaking with laughter. Emma lifted a hand, a silver hook dangling from her pointer finger.

“Looking for this?” she grinned.

He reached for the hook, but Emma yanked it out of reach. “Ah-ah. Not yet. You have to say it first.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry for following you both on your… _date_ last night.”

“And?”

“And I’m sorry for getting drunk.”

“Getting drunk _and?”_

He flushed. “And trying to kiss you in the middle of Granny’s… and then becoming disoriented and kissing Neal in the middle of Granny’s.”

“And will you do it again?”

“… _No._ ”

“Then apology accepted,” Emma handed him the hook, and he took it with a glare.

“You know,” he grumbled as he reattached his appendage, “this can’t go on. You can’t do this _every_ time you’re angry with me. And you,” he gestured to Neal, “I expected you to be a better influence on her, mate.”

Emma laughed.

“What are you talking about?” Neal smirked. “It was my idea!”

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a prompt/concept by my homegirl Alice at hesaiditsallinmyhead.tumblr.com (casually pimps) - and yeah, I don't know what time period this takes place in either. In a magical time when Neal is alive and Hook is an ally and everyone lives in Storybrooke…


End file.
